


Of Tunics and Acceptance

by Songofpsalms297



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Shirt stealing shenanigans, there will be more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 05:19:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songofpsalms297/pseuds/Songofpsalms297
Summary: Another one of those "Shirt Stealing Fics". Cassandra Shenanigans.





	Of Tunics and Acceptance

            She moved furtively through the keep. She knew she could not continue doing this. It would come out eventually and how would she explain herself. She died another embarrassed death at the thought of what he might say were he to ever know. She was not certain she could live with his rejection of her. He adopted "family" so easily, being on the outskirts of it would just have to do. If she were caught by anyone else, she could just say she was helping the laundress. After all, her quarters were past his. His clothes stacked on top of hers. Her face colored briefly. Hopefully, no one would press her about her bringing his clothes to his room.

            No one need ever know she had hidden his tunic inside one of hers. Rolled tightly. Of course, Maker take him! It was all his fault, she rationalized. If he did not have that mischievous twinkle in his eye whenever he teased her. The way his eyes sparkled in approval whenever she finally grasped one of those convoluted rules for Wicked Grace. The way he smelled. Like crisp parchment, warm ink, and himself. The way her fingers remembered, the silken strands of blonde, which had brushed her, face when they shared a tent during one of their missions to the Emerald Graves. Sharing a tent as fellow soldiers do. Not like lovers. No. She would never have that chance with him. Not when they had had such an antagonistic beginning.

            A solitary tear escaped to roll down her cheek. All she could have was one of his tunics. She made sure to offer to collect his clothes when heading down to the laundry with her own. She always squirreled away one of his shirts between his room, and the basement of Skyhold. Wearing her armor in the keep allowed her the ability to wear the shirt she had absconded with under it, no one the wiser. She hoped. She could handle Evie knowing. It would be mortifying, yes, but Evie was like a sister to her and would offer sympathy for Cassandra's plight. Especially as Evie's heart followed Cullen. Yes. Evie would understand. Cassandra made up her mind to speak to her friend at lunch today.

            Continuing up the back stair, above the garden that would take her past his room, she was so caught up in her thoughts she did not see him. Varric and Cassandra crashed into each other, and much to her dismay, all their clothing was tangled in the mess. She tried to grab for her shirt, which had one of his tunics peeking out of it, but he found it first. Confused warm amber met horrified chocolate eyes. His eyebrows rose to his hairline.

            "Uh. Seeker? How did my tunic end up rolled in one of yours?"

            She spluttered trying to find an excuse, anything that might make the situation better, plausible, anything. She could not come up with anything at all. Her horrified eyes met his, honesty it was then. Trying to make him understand she choked, "I, ah, enjoy your scent. It is not, as awful as it sounds. I promise. Your, Oh Maker take me." Tears ran freely, face aflame, she cast her eyes down, as she jerkily began to collect and sort their respective clothing.

            "Seeker", he tried to get her to raise her eyes to his. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Cassandra". Shocked at the warmth he put into her name, her eyes met his.

His eyes were shining with love and laughter as his hand reached out to cup her jaw.

Dumbstruck at the expression on his face. She'd expected mockery at the very least, outright fury at the worst. She could not think to react.

            Thank the Maker he took pity on her, gently kissing her lips. He kissed her tears away as well. His rumbling chuckle tickled her heart. Their arms had wrapped around each other while they had kissed.

            She sighed, "I am a fool. Can you forgive me for stealing your shirts?"

            "Seeker, you can wear my shirts anytime. My door is always open to you. You don't even have to stab anything this time."

            She laughed aloud, swatting at his chest helplessly. Sobering she looked into his eyes, drinking in the love she found there, "Truly? You do not mind?"

            He chuckled, "No Cassandra, I don't mind. Meet me for lunch today?"

            Warmth suffused her, "Yes."


End file.
